


Pacts and bonds

by taotrooper



Series: Legends of dragons [2]
Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Gen, Manga Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-03-17 04:42:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3515756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taotrooper/pseuds/taotrooper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoilers for chapters 100 and up. A group of short stories about the original four Dragon Warriors, why they were chosen, how their lives used to be before they were blessed and cursed, and how they dealt with their brothers and their beloved king.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Getting to know you

"It's my greatest pleasure to meet you," said the king to his new four companions as he bowed. He looked like a completely different person than the pitiful man they saw on their first meeting, now that he had bathed, his wounds had been tended, and he was wearing simple yet beautiful robes and jewelry. Now anyone could believe they were in the presence of an emperor descended from the heavens, splendid and majestic.

They all immediately answered to the reverence with their own, either compelled by his nobility or the blood still boiling a bit in them. Everyone but Seiryuu felt out of place in the elegant hall, in temporary fancy clothes to substitute their dirty rags from the fight and journey. Ouryuu's sleeves were too long and needed adjustments.

"This wasn't my idea," Hiryuu continued. "When I said I loved humans and I couldn't accept the help they wanted to provide, the dragons planned this on their own. They don't trust humanity, I'm afraid. However, they feared to leave me alone. As guardians of heavens, they were unable to reincarnate as men like I did since they have responsibilities. This... is a way to give me companions that we all five could approve. They're believing me when I say that a lot of people are wonderful and worthy. That's why they chose one person each... Ah, excuse me...?"

Ryokuryuu wasn't paying attention anymore, his sight on the columns and lamps. The others glared in disapproval. Hiryuu sighed, sad smile on his lips. Better get to his point fast.

"I just want to know something. Were you forced to receive these powers and serve me? Please be honest with me. I think I owe you an apology if this is the case, and I shall dismiss you if you wish to leave my side."

Four bemused young men just stared at him. Everyone shook their heads. Everyone had accepted by their own account.

"Well," said Ryokuryuu, "I wished for the power alone and the chance to fight. I can't say I like having a master, but it comes with the bargain. So I'm not gonna be a pansy and back out just because there's a catch in the deal, y'know?"

"Thanks. That's okay," said Hiryuu with a fierce smirk. "I like the honesty, and as long as you don't betray my trust and affection, you don't have to like me as a person. You're free to have feelings and leave whenever you want, but in good terms."

Ryokuryuu wouldn't stare at the ceiling anymore. Hiryuu's expression and words had become more interesting.

"I came here because I wanted to, my lord," said Hakuryuu. "I had heard from you before... all good things, actually. I for one am looking forward to work for you."

"With you, not for you." Hiryuu's smirk turned into a satisfied grin, and he offered his hand. "Thank you so much. I hope I can live up to your expectations."

Hakuryuu gasped at first, but then he laughed and shook Hiryuu's hand with his own, now in an almost normal size.

"I have nothing important to do at home," said Seiryuu. "I don't believe I have reasons to go back anymore.... It all seems insignificant and smothering now, seen from above with these eyes."

"You'll see terrible things if you stay here, but hopefully we can change that vision for a more beautiful one. Please help me, not only with your beautiful new eyes." He also offered his hand, with a friendly smile.

Seiryuu's face didn't seem to react much, but after he bent and kissed the king's hand his golden eyes betrayed him. It seemed that deep down he was more emotional.

"How about you?" Hiryuu asked Ouryuu, who looked a little shy. "Don't be nervous."

"Um... No, I wasn't forced and I can stay, but to be honest... I'm not sure why I was chosen. I'm not a warrior and I don't have cool powers like them..."

"We could tell," pointed out Ryokuryuu.

"Shhhhhhhh."

"So I don't know how I can help, king. The will of the heavens wants me to be here, and I'll do what's within my reach and all, but I can't help but wonder."

Hiryuu's factions softened. He stood in front of the boy and put his palms on Ouryuu's shoulders. That alarmed the teenager even further.

"Thank you. I know that feeling too well. Let me tell you guys a secret. If you heard rumors about me and expected me to be an all-powerful god, you'll be disappointed. I am human now. A human with the spirit of a dragon, but human. I don't have powers like these three either, lad. But you know what?" Without taking his hands off, he looked at the four of them in the eyes with determination, and they saw fire in his pupils. "That's not going to stop me. My powerlessness shall not stop me. Hatred and fear from others shall not stop me. I'll also do what I can and pour all my heart into making a kingdom where all its people can live happier."

The four or them were impressed to hear that, but Ouryuu in particular had forgotten how to breathe. Then Hiryuu closed his fiery eyes and his smile was kind and sweet again.

"Take it easy," he whispered. "You have protected me once without powers. You are more useful than you think. Even if in the end you don't go to the battlefield, you can still do many things here for me. Even if it's something trivial like making me company and cheering me up, it's fine. We'll figure it out soon."

He patted the boy's shoulders, who looked much more relaxed then, and went back to the point where he was standing at first, to approach everyone.

"And believe me, I knew the dragons and they wouldn't choose someone unworthy to share their blood. You all have something special, I just know it. I trust their judgment, and therefore I trust you with my life. Um..." He tilted his head and scratched it. "I've been speaking for so long and I haven't asked your names yet. I don't want to call you whatever-ryuu all the time. Can you please...?"

"I'm Zeno."

"...My name is Abi."

"Guen, to serve your majesty!"

"You call me Shuten, I guess."

Hiryuu looked absolutely delighted. He blushed and grinned like a child.

"Adorable! I love your names. Let's see if I got them right." He pointed at every dragon with his index finger, while he memorized them.

"Guen, right? Guen. Guen.

"Abi, was it? Oh, your name is so lovely, by the way! Abi. Abi.

"Shu... ten? Yes. Shuten. Shuten.

"And of course, Zeno. Zeno. Zeno. Call me crazy, but just saying your names makes me feel safer and calmer."

The mighty dragon warriors couldn't reply to that. Each of them was too busy being flustered by the king's genuine affection to even utter one word. The only sound that broke the ice was a stomach growling.

"Haha, yes, I've talked for too long. Let's sit by the table, let's eat and have some rice wine. That's your first order as my dragons. You can tell me your story if you want. I want to get to know you four better, you hear? Good, come. Guen, Abi, Shuten, Zeno."

They followed their master to the dinner hall with a will beyond the blood pact. Hiryuu had stolen their hearts and earned their respect with just kind words.


	2. Guen's story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A take on Hakuryuu Guen's backstory, on the day he received the blood of the dragon.

When they decided to go with the idea of blessed human warriors, the dragons could not decide what kind of person would be ideal for Hiryuu's needs. Each of them tossed different moral qualities into the discussion. They could not even agree in a standard body type for their champions. Some considered physical prowess was indisputable, some thought a previous lack of it could work better.

In the end, an agreement wasn't met and they were to work on their own. Each of the deities flew along with a different wind, with their own ideas as only company. They didn't have the luxury of time, with Hiryuu in danger, with Hiryuu aging every second. They'd have to trust their instincts.

* * *

The recruits left their positions in the practice yard and ran to observe the show. It wasn't often that the two best officers of their troop sparred with each other, and there was much to learn from the fight in any case. They stood in awe, cheering and yelling, enough space left for the pair to move.

The swords clashed, the feet danced, the arms drew complicated curves in the air. They were both well educated in the art of battle, but the approaches were diverse. The one with better armor had a more deliberate choreography, as precise as a player of a board game, aiming at key spots. The slightly shorter one was more feral; he gave his all with every thrust and enjoyed himself more. The first man had more methodology, but that's not to say that the second was chaotic. In that raw power, there were patterns that couldn't be just instinct. They both knew what they were doing, but one was less elegant about it.

By the end of the fight, the calculating man ended up on the floor. The rougher man's sword was an inch from his throat. People went wild. The second man sheathed his weapon and stretched his hand to help the first man to get up.

"Curse you, Guen," said the loser, while he brushed the dust from his armor. "I was this close."

"Hahahaha! Whatever you say, Jun-seok!" He removed his helm. The winner of the combat was actually young and handsome in a rough way, with honest eyes and messy dark brown hair. He seemed pleased about the outcome.

"Next time I'll beat you. You were lucky this time." Jun-seok spat on the sand and grinned in defiance. He wasn't really too angry.

"Sure, sure. I'm looking forward to it. It'll be good training for a real enemy."

The recruits swarmed about Guen with total admiration.

"That was amazing, First Lieutenant!"

"That last strike was genius! Did the general teach you that swirly move?"

"Can you teach us, First Lieutenant Guen?"

"Guys, relax!" Guen chuckled. "Thank you, Yan. Yeah, Tae-shin, my old man taught me that move when I was 13. And sure, you little brothers need to learn as much as you can before they send us to the front. But we'll leave that for tomorrow. I dunno about you guys, but I'm starving and could eat a whole ox."

"Guen!" Cried Jun-seok. "Practice isn't over yet! The captain will skin us if we end it earlier."

"Tsk, Second Lieutenant Prissy Pants is right. Let's run 10 laps and then it's dinner time."

"Awwwwww," sighed the cadets.

While he was jogging, Guen saw something long and white floating in the sky.

* * *

The White Dragon, with their large, powerful claws that could crush and rip everything, valued strength the most. Not only in the hands, but also in the spirit. A strong individual, for them, is one who can give and take pain equally. One who can follow his liege with the utmost loyalty, but is also able to lead those who follow him and inspire them. Hiryuu needed someone useful, and that's what the White Dragon would give to him.

* * *

Meal time was great. The rations weren't abundant and the bread was a little hard, but they were so tired that it all tasted like glory. Guen's siblings had sent him a bottle of rice wine, which he shared with his men. They danced and sang to Jun-seok's haegeum -a two-string fiddler in which he excelled at playing. Guen told some stories from the previous war from his father, a famous military figure who had retired a few years ago because of a bad wound. Everyone assumed Guen would soon achieve his dad's rank, or perhaps even surpass him. The young man's strength was unreal and he had learned his swordsmanship from the best.

The recruit called Yan read a new report they had just received from the captain, fresh from the carrier pidgeon. King Hiryuu had been captured. Their tribe sympathized with the mysterious man who had risen to power, so everyone in the room felt bummed out. Guen hoped they'd send their unit in his rescue, but the boys were still too new so he doubted it.

They all went to bed, their mood slightly dampened. Thunders could be heard in the distance despite the fact it wasn't raining. As they left the hall to go to their quarters, Guen could hear a deep voice beckoning to him. The call was strong.

"Who...? Did you brothers here that voice?"

"Heheheh, the wine went to master Guen's head. No one said anything, man."

"I can't resist... I'll be back later."

"Guen, wait!"

The man put on his fur coat and his boots, left the headquarters, and ran to the cold night.

* * *

When he came to his senses, he was in a valley that had previously been a battlefield long ago. Unclaimed bones that still wore armors and rusty weapons laid everywhere. But the only thing that mattered was the giant dragon. They were as white and shiny as a pearl, but their savage glare betrayed the purity of their color.

Guen knew the sword he brought would be useless against the heavenly creature.

"Are you the one who called?"

_Aye, human. You have been chosen to become a dragon warrior._

"A what warrior, again?"

The dragon explained their story.

"All that power, in exchange of serving King Hiryuu..." Guen looked at his hands and thought about it. He clenched his fists and smirked. "Alright, I'd be a fool to say no and I do like your lord. Can I... put my business in order first? I should sort things out with my unit first, tell my parents and siblings, visit a couple of girls I like from my hometown..."

_Nay. We have no time. It shall be now._

"Ugh." Guen combed his hair with his fingers. "You dragons are worst than our captain. Fine, I'll drink your blood now, but you're making me look irresponsible."

* * *

When Jun-seok arrived to the valley chasing for his friendly rival and superior, he could hear a hysterical laughter he knew very well. There were sounds of struggle that sounded like bones and spears being teared apart. That alarmed him, but not as much as what he saw.

The creature looked like Guen and laughed like Guen and spoke like Guen, but everything was off. Especially that gigantic white arm with long razor-sharp nails and scales. He raised his sword.

"What did you do to my friend, monster? Are you possessing him?"

The creature turned around. His hair glowed silver. But his eyes changed from euphoria to sadness as soon as he saw Jun-seok.

"Brother Jun-seok, it's still me inside. Nothing is possessing me, although this arm seems to have a bit of a character of its own. I'm afraid I can't spar with you again like that. I don't need a sword anymore and it'd be unfair."

"What on Earth happened to you?!"

"I don't have the time to explain. Gotta go now."

"Go where?!"

"Go save Hiryuu, apparently. I'm sorry, man. You're first lieutenant now, so please take care of the troops. I leave them in your hands. Please write a letter to my family and tell 'em I'm sorry to desert the army, but I have a higher lord to serve now. Tell 'em I'm not being a coward or a traitor. I'm a dragon now. We'll see each other later if I survive, okay?"

"Guen, what are you..."

It was then when Jun-seok saw the god descend and take his sparring partner far away. He waved good-bye from the sky with that enormous hand.

* * *

When asked later, he didn't mention the hair or the arm or the dragon; he just said that Guen was joining Hiryuu's rescue mission and he couldn't stop him. No one would've believed the wild story. He was honest and told the truth to the old general and his family in his letter, though. However, he never dared to open even the seal on their reply.

When later he heard the tales about the Four Dragons and the clawed man with silver mane, he would sigh in relief and wish Guen well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm planning to write one piece for every original dragon. First we have the Hakuryuu! Despite being described as reckless by Ouryuu, to me he seemed to be the least conflictive of the three. He bossed Shuten around and gave him orders, but was the nicest to Zeno in a big brother sort of way. So IMO, a military background and high brotherhood feelings made sense. He seemed to be the most social, so he even gets a best friend/rival. That last part I didn't plan it, he just suddenly existed.
> 
> Of course, the strong loyalty that the White Dragon sought would haunt all of Guen's successors. My choosing criteria for the dragons backfire a lot and end up tragically. Dragons are so stupid.


	3. Abi's story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A take on Seiryuu Abi's backstory, on the day he received the blood of the dragon.

"Young master Abi, the sun has risen. Time to wake up."

"Shhhh. I heard you the last two times, Shin," said a groggy voice under the fine bedsheets. "I'm coming."

Abi dragged his body to the washing basin. A few minutes later, thanks to the insistence of the servant lady, he was washed up and dressed up in elegant clothes. The boy took a jade comb and untangled his straight black hair. He took half of it and tied it into a hair bun with a ribbon, the progress being checked on the mirror that hung on the wall. A beautiful but lethargic face stared back. The hairdo looked fine, so now he had no excuse to linger in his room.

* * *

It was the middle of the afternoon, and he and his sister sat around a wooden bamboo table in the patio of the mansion, doing homework. Abi had gotten extra work from their tutor because he had been unable to locate Yuu-kyou on the map. The framed map that was hanging on the other side of the study room and had really tiny handwriting. It was a pain to memorize it since he'd have to stand just in front of it to see anything at all.

By the time Abi had arrived to the courtyard, Aya had finished her own work and was working on a charcoal sketch. She was one year younger than him, smarter, more charismatic, and much louder. She hummed a song as she drew, perfectly aware that it wasn't helping her brother's concentration. Between that and the clang of swords happening in the middle of the yard, Abi was having a really hard time with his history essay. His eyes were squinting and his face was quite close to the table. He then threw away the parchment when he wrote the wrong character and grabbed a new piece. What a waste of ink in such a dull subject.

He sighed and glared at the two moving figures while he soaked the brush on the inkstone. He honestly couldn't tell which was the fencing instructor and who was his older brother, Awoo. Both were grunting blurs to him. The moves did look impressive, but that was about all he could tell without going to them. The essay wasn't going to write itself, so he restarted.

"Want me to do it for you, Abi-niichan? I love the Kai wars. I wish he'd assign me that kind of cool stuff instead of copying cheesy poems."

"Shut up, Aya, your voice is annoying. Besides, master Cho knows our handwritings well and I'll be the only one getting into trouble, again." Last time they had switched their assignments, their mother had given the girl a beautiful dress while the boy had been punished with ten slaps on his hands. Because that lesson would help him to write better. "Just go read Father's books behind his back after your embroidery lessons as usual."

"Ugh, how are you even my brother? You can't do anything special, don't have friends, and only care about those dumb birds and playing bad music on the flute."

"Yes, because insulting me will magically make Father change his mind about your future, and you'll be able to take the scholar examinations that I don't even want to take!"

"Hey, you two! Calm the hell down."

The teenagers looked up. Awoo stood in front of them and frowned. He had short hair and the least delicate features from all the siblings -he took it from their father, while the younger ones were like their mother-, stern and hardened. He was still imposing and elegant though, as expected from the older son of a lord.

"Whatever..." Abi returned to his work.

"Check my portrait of you with your sword, Awoo-niichan! You look sooooo handsome!"

"Oh, you're right. You're not bad at drawing, Aya-chan." Aya giggled. "You aren't done, Abi-kun? I was expecting to help you practice with the blade."

"What for?" Abi rolled his eyes. "You'll beat me up again. I suck at it, just like archery."

"You have a decent chance with swords. Where's your pride? What if the mansion is attacked while Father and I are gone? Who's going to protect Mother and our sister?" Same old speech.

"Not a scrawny short-sighted guy, I can assure you. They'll slice me up before I see them clearly."

"Nice try. We're still practicing tomorrow, smartass."

* * *

The beautiful colors of the dusk painted the skies in red and purple tones, above the green and gray mountains in the far distance. The views in the mansion's terrace were spectacular even for someone with eyes as bad as Abi's. He saw no difference between the painting of the mountains on the dining room and the scene in front of him, both abstract and blurry but no less wonderful. This was his favorite place of the house. He usually went there to visit his pets and relax. Flower pots with geraniums and chrysanthemums hung from the red wooden veranda. The huge wire cage stood next to the door. The five little songbirds jumped and flew all across, welcoming the human with happy tweets.

Abi leaned over the veranda and complained about his siblings and his parents, as he tended to do. The birds never replied back and had no advise to give, but he always felt lighter after that ritual. He felt as empty as the cloudless sky, as trapped as the birds, and quite lost. He couldn't find any talent to excel at, thanks to his bad sight, and was the middle child to boot. If his eyes were good, he could fight with the sword and the bow with his brother, he could study at the same level as his sister. The only thing he was almost decent at doing was playing music, and yet he wasn't creative enough to compose his own tunes. It was no secret that the lord and lady had low hopes on him. If only he were brave to leave the mansion and start his own life as an errant flute player, but he'd be doomed on his own. He was aware of how spoiled he was.

He went to the cage and served the feathery pretties some sesame seeds. Then he took out his musical instrument. The danso was made of bamboo and had five holes. He then put it by his mouth, closed his eyes, and started playing a quick, fast melody he had managed to master with some efforts. His favorite bird, a blue-colored one he called Lazuli, joined him from his perch. Drowning in the sound, he didn't notice the thunders until the wind almost knocked him over. When he opened his eyes, the enormous face of a dragon covered the firmament. The flute fell from his fingers to the tiled floor.

* * *

The Blue Dragon had a different approach to the White Dragon. Qualities in the human warrior were irrelevant. Actually, they didn't even want someone with a strong will. They looked for someone who absolutely lacked what they had to give, who had no attachment to anyone or anything so they could only serve Hiryuu. A burning desire to belong somewhere and have the eyes of a dragon, so they could overwhelm him and indulge in the violence during the fight.

* * *

"W-what the hell? A dragon?! Did I summon you with my flute?"

_Nay. You have been chosen to become a dragon warrior._

"...You're looking for my brother Awoo. He's in the valley at his fiancée's house."

_I am looking for you in particular, human. That one is too brute and unsightly for my gifts._

He agreed in silence; despite his low self esteem, he knew he was better looking than Awoo.

"Gifts?! What gifts are we talking about?"

The dragon explained the story to Abi. He stared at the golden eyes, breathless.

"This is no dream, eh? Yes! I... love my family despite everything, but I don't do them any honor here and can't do anything they want of me. I'd love to be a warrior and see the world and be someone. Can I have your blood now, please?"

The dragon's eyes shone like gold.

* * *

"Abi-niichaaaaaaaan, stop playing the stupid flute and come inside, it's going to raaaaaaain!"

Aya opened the door of the terrace. A figure who looked exactly like her brother stood there, his back on her and his focus on somewhere far away, but his hair was the color of the clear sky in a summer day.

"A-Abi? What the hell did you do to your hair? Mother and Father are going to kill you for dying it in such an extrav--"

He turned around, reluctant. She had to contain a scream. His eyes... his eyes weren't human. They were golden, with the pupils of a cat.

"Aya... I can see everything now. _Everything._ Please tell our parents and brother that I'm leaving the house."

"A-are you crazy, Abi?!" She shook her head and raised her voice. "You can't leave! I don't know what happened to you, but I'm not letting you go."

She ran to him, but when he looked at her with disdain, something happened. The girl dropped on the floor, immobilized, and tears poured from her green eyes. Her mouth, the only part that still obeyed her, moaned for help. She could see the blue monster -blue and gold, just like he was now- behind her brother, whispering to him with bad intentions.

"No! She's my sister. As much as I thank you for this amazing sight, I can't let you tear her heart apart." Abi covered his eyes with his hand. "I'm sorry, Aya. I can't stay in the cage. I hope Father lets you be happy." Without removing his hand, he crouched to pick up the flute from the floor, and hid it inside his sash. Then, with his free hand, he opened the cage. Lazuli jumped to his fingers and then to his pocket. The other birds stayed inside, terrified of the gust.

"A... bi... please..."

In sobs and lying on the cold tiles, she saw him jump off the window. Seconds later, the dragon turned around with the boy on his back. She couldn't see that Abi's new right eye shed a tear for her as he looked back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A [danso](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Danso) is a traditional Korean flute. I'm going with Korean names for musical instruments, just like in Guen's story the erhu was called a [haegeum](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Haegeum).
> 
> Well, there's my headcanon for Abi's backstory. Other writers give him a more badass, stoic background, while I went for a brooding myopic rich teenager. So... this is different but it made sense to me. Hopefully the birdie survives the journey!


	4. Shuten's story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A take on Ryokuryuu Shuten's backstory, and the way he received the blood of the dragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to Dawgy ([gloriousrumpoflife](http://archiveofourown.org/users/gloriousrumpoflife)) for the beta read!
> 
> This chapter is more bloody than the others and has a depiction of a murder. It also contains some implied mentions of domestic violence, abortion, and underage rape, although nothing is shown so I doubted whether I should've tagged the fic with that or not. You may skip that part of the backstory by going here.

They say you can never forget your first kill. Even if you dismiss the being you terminated, the memory of it all will stay in your mind forever, underneath your skull and skin. How you did it, why you did it, how it felt, the whole sensation. For the boy who used to be called Eight, the blood gushing out of the burly man's neck as he quickly stabbed the vein was warm, sticky, and over all liberating. He pulled out the knife he had stolen from the kitchen, and the man collapsed in a flash. It was a gamble, since if Eight's blade had cut the wrong place, he would've kept his life. Luckily, his lungs were filled with blood and he never woke again.

Eight stared at the cruel bushy eyebrows above shocked eyes, at the flabby but robust arms that had hit him so many times before, at the ruined blue silk tunic, at the leather whip falling from the hand that he and the others knew and hated so well. Finally, the bastard was gone. The rage and fear unknotted in his stomach. Sure, they still weren't safe, but the kid didn't care what happened afterwards. He raised his cold eyes to the ones who had received punishment that night. It was Four and Seven, who were paralyzed and on the verge of screaming. With the hand that wasn't holding the knife, Eight made a sign to command them to be silent.

Four didn't move, but after a while Seven stood up and took a look. He had no shirt on, blood fresh from the lash on his back. The habit and the horror had made him forget most of the pain. When time passed and the adult man didn't move, the boy turned to Eight.

"Ya did it. Ya killed 'im good like ya said ya would."

"Yeah. Guess I did, huh?" A creepy, sharp grin appeared on his lips.

"W-w-what do we do now?" Four murmured, her body curled on the floor and her eyes in tears. She was at least 5 to 7 years older than the boys. "The mistress will get us killed! What were you thinking, Eight?!"

"I'm going to the mistress' quarters and tell her the truth," said Eight. "You guys didn't do a thing, so there's no reason to punish you. I'm the crazy one."

"Please don't!"

Eight turned around, blood-stained knife still held by his fist, and went to the man's wife to calmly inform her he just murdered her husband. The other two heard his words from the study room where it all happened, and then saw the lady of the house running to be witness of a corpse that was still lukewarm. She put her hands over her mouth.

"Why?" She asked, more appalled and disgusted by the mess than upset.

"Because the master abused us, even the kids. He made us overwork to exhaustion, punched and whipped us, and took advantage of the girls. Four-neechan had a miscarriage of his own child last month from the severe beatings. That man... he was a monster and had it coming. Do what you want to me, drag me to hell with him, but we're avenged. I don't care. I was fed up and I'll never regret it."

The woman nodded like this revelation didn't surprise her. She slowly raised her fair curls from her neck until purple marks in the shape of large fingertips were visible around her throat.

"Don't regret it, boy. You did everyone a favor. He was a brute and he indeed deserved it, and I'm becoming a rich woman thanks to you. I think we can make it look like a robbery. If word spreads that he was killed by a mere slave brat, it would bring shame to the house. Now get rid of the knife, go to your quarters, and wash yourselves; I must call the authorities."

After the death was swept and dealt with, the mistress called a trustworthy healer to check on Four's condition and all the slaves' lacerations. She then gave their freedom to those who wanted it. Eight, who had chosen the name of Shuten for himself as a free man, knew it wasn't exactly an act of generosity. He had seen from the look on her eyes that she was honestly afraid of him repeating that little knife act on her one day.

* * *

The Green Dragon valued strength and freedom above all. It did agree with the White Dragon that Hiryuu needed remarkable warriors to represent them. It did never, however, agree that a loyal dog was a good idea. Why should it choose a doormat or a yes man? No, someone with enough guts to say what needed to be said to his king, be it truths or thoughts. Someone who looked up and aimed at the sky. Someone willing to jump would be worthy of the dragon's foot.

The dragon wasn't interested in a sealed flask of stale air, or in a breeze to move the master's sails. It was looking for a force of nature, a good old hurricane. Nimble, swift, aloof.

It didn't occur to it how contradictory it was to expect to bind the unbound into service. The blood pact was thick enough, on the other hand.

* * *

Three men ran through the narrow streets of the city, as fast as they could. The youth in front dodged some pedestrians or yelled profanities to others in order to get them to step out of the way. His dusty cape and his ponytail of tawny hair waved as he dashed forward. He climbed on marble rails and didn't bother to use the stone steps. He pushed the barrel of a merchant to the pursuers. Nothing stopped them, so he continued and turned left into an alley. Eventually he was greeted by an adobe wall. He heard laughter behind his back and the sound of steel being unsheathed.

"You messed up, scum! This is a dead end."

The young man didn't turn to them immediately. He left out a chuckle that echoed on the wall, and then he spun on his heels. His squinty eyes looked thirsty and his teeth looked like tiny blades.

"Are you sure you're not the ones who messed up? Come if you dare, useless trash."

They dared. The man charged at the first one to arrive, and he was fast. He kicked him in the chest, and the enemy stumbled and fell over his partner. While they were on the floor trying to reincorporate, the guy quickly stepped on their hands to make them drop the daggers. They got up, but they were unharmed and much weaker than the prey made hunter. The fight ended almost immediately, and he got out of the alley alone with their daggers, money pouches, and hairbands that told who they worked for.

"Dead end, sure, but not for me. Idiots." Of course he knew the city as well as the callouses over his palm. That had been a trap all along. With those two, he had gotten rid of all the obstacles. With the fun part done, it was time to get the cargo to its destination and finish the job.

Shuten was a mercenary, but he preferred to call himself a jack of all trades. He could be hired to beat people up, kill people, steal, spy, escort as a bodyguard, fight in rings for entertainment, whatever as long as it paid well and promised a bit of violence. He had been hired for armies twice, but he came back home twice from those wars almost unscathed. From the last one, he had kept a nice armor plate he frequently used.

However, he had one rule: he'd always flat out refuse if the employer supported slavery. That made him lose a lot of amazing jobs, but that was his only moral code and those people sickened him too much to work for them.

Being a freelance –and lances were his favorite weapons, although he could fight with anything or nothing at all, really– was much better than having a master or a boss.

* * *

After a work well done and getting a payment well deserved, Shuten went to his favorite bar to buy a bottle of the best sake they had. Back when the man formerly known as Seven was still alive –he had died stupidly in their first war– and the woman formerly known as Four lived still in the city –she had married some loser and was dragged to his parents' village–, he'd drink after the missions and would share his new stories with them. But they were gone, and he was alone, and he thought he didn't need the weight of friends or comrades in his life ever again, and he'd take his liquor to the roofs.

He jogged into the bar and ran up the wall until his hands reached a balcony. From there, he jumped to a ledge bordering the house next to it, which he used as a pivot to reach the tiles above. Once he was standing on top, he took momentum and sprinted. He hopped from rooftop to rooftop, in a dance of one for no audience but himself, doing all kinds of acrobatics and backflips in the air.

He liked that ritual of keeping his feet off the ground as long as possible. It was playful and it relaxed him. Shuten was no artist, but if he were he'd consider it poetry in motion. And the reward for all that freeing exercise was the best seat in the city to see the spectacular sunset with his jar of rice wine. So he sat on cool red clay tiles, still sweating from the dance, and popped the cork.

The Green Dragon appeared to him during the second cup, under a sky that was already a dark shade of blue.

"It's a bit early in the night for this kind of shit. I thought I wasn't drunk yet."

_Nay, human. You have been chosen to become a dragon warrior._

Shuten blinked. He was sure he was still sober and awake. Then...

"My reputation goes that far? Huh. Fine, but my services aren't cheap, especially not for a god. What you’ve got, green whiskers?"

The dragon explained the situation. Shuten jeered.

"No way." He spat on a tile. "Not even for all the gold in the world. You want me for servitude, for slavery. I'm not going to be some dumb king's henchman. I'm a free man."

_Not for all the gold, you greedy worm, but how about power? How about more strength? I could give you the skills of a god, the ability to jump so high you soar in the air. You could almost fly. You could break bones with just one kick._

Well, that sounded interesting. Maybe he could work for this dragon king guy for a while and then quit the job. It just sounded too damn fun to say no. Shuten didn't want to regret it later, in case this was true and not some hallucination.

"Can I mix your snake blood with my sake, at least? I don't want to drink that gross crap alone."

_Aye, but we shall not use your pitiful excuse of a vase._

Minutes later, he broke rooftops of four houses and even one phoenix ornament in his test jumps. The dragon had to practically drag him to save King Hiryuu.


	5. Zeno's story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twice had this heartwarming boy to leave his old life all of a sudden in order to make things better for others. His fate was ruled, after all, by the most unexpected.

## Unexpected death

He was four years old when he first heard the voices. It was a humid summer night and the cicadas sang a sad song as the tiny boy woke up. He quickly crossed to the other side of the cabin where his family lived, his small feet sounding like a lonely army, until he knelt to his parents' thin futon and touched his mother's hair as softly as a gentle breeze. She opened her eyes and noticed he wasn’t wearing his usual sunshine smile.

"What's wrong, little Zeno?" She whispered and kissed his tender cheeks, trying not to wake her husband up. "Can't sleep? Come in." The woman lifted the blanket and squeezed in to leave the kid some space, which he immediately snuggled into.

A few minutes passed until he talked.

"I'm sorry, mama."

"Why? You've done nothing wrong, dear."

He shook his head in the darkness.

"'Cuz granny is sick and returning to the Heavens tomorrow, mama."

The cicadas' melody filled the air, and the air in the room felt much chillier. Even the uncomfortable, sticky warmth of the straw mat had turned cold as ice. A heavy weight sank on her stomach.

"Who told you that, sweetie?"

"Dunno. Saw her sleeping with flowers around her. Didn't recognize her 'til you cried on her chest and called her mom. Uncle Lee-jun was there, too. Then a deep, pretty voice above us told me that granny leaves tomorrow and it's her heart."

"Sweetie," she replied, in the most reassuring tone she could muster, "it was just a bad dream. Granny is fine, she's really strong." She kissed her son's temple.

Lena thought the nightmare her baby boy just had was morbid and strange, but dreams sometimes were. Little Zeno was young, had never gone to a funeral, and only had seen farm animals dying. Maybe the other kids had talked to him about weird subjects. He probably just wanted to see his grandmother again; he had only met her twice as they didn't live in the same village. He didn't seem too sad about her supposed passing since he didn't know her well, but he was still shaken and it took him some minutes to fall into slumber.

It was just a dream, Lena told herself to sleep. They could visit her mom after they were finished with the sheep's shearing, since that the weather was nice. Bring her some of her favorite dumplings and a homemade cheese. Little Zeno could play with his cousins at the creek.

The next night, the heat was more clement but the atmosphere seemed charged with static electricity. The child was once again upset and had to sleep with his parents for a second time in a row. He saw the silhouette of his dead grandmother in every shadow of the house. According to him, she was saying good-bye to Lena and both Zenos; the big eyes he had inherited from his mother were inscrutable and serious. His father, skeptical yet visibly disturbed, begged him to stop lying and close his eyes already. Zeno senior was a kind but pragmatic man who loved his son, but wanted nothing to do with ghost stories or horrible glances.

The next morning, her older brother came to the village with the bad news. It all happened exactly as little Zeno had foreseen, and Lena was forced to visit her mother for the last time much, much sooner.

  


* * *

  


## Unexpected visitor

Zeno would still hear voices of gods once in a while, with their warnings and their prophecies, but no experience was as close and personal as that time when he was six years old.

The reds and purples of the dawn had already left the sky. Little Zeno was in the stable, helping his father to groom the sheep before putting them out to pasture. He gently removed all dirt and knots out of the last lamb's back with a comb, and then he petted her thick fleece with love and tenderness. The lamb bleated and cuddled her head against the smiling boy, content.

_Is this what you call wool? It's soft!_

He stumbled backwards and fell on his behind as he heard the unnatural voice. The lamb, still in his arms, cried in indignation and slipped away from him with a hop.

"What's wrong, son?" Zeno senior looked up from the fleece of an adult sheep. Unlike his child, who had a soothing aura for animals, he had to use a wooden stand to immobilize the nervous ewes and rams while he did this task.

"Uh... Nothing, papa. I stepped on broken straw."

"Ah, for a moment I thought it was one of your imaginary friends again." The man sighed and added, with a concerned voice. "Be careful, okay? You could've hurt yourself or that girl's legs."

"Ahahahaha, sorry, sorry!" The boy was blushing.

Zeno senior stood up and took his crook –a weathered oak staff that ended in a hook– from the wall. He whistled, and the flock of sheep followed him out the door obediently. Little Zeno didn't have to help herding that day of the week, so he waved good-bye and looked at his father's back and his swaying bushy ponytail.

"We can talk now, mister," he said when he was sure they were alone. "Are you still here?"

_Oh. Hello. My apologies for scaring you and hurting you, boy._

"I'm alright. Sorry for ignoring you, but papa and most people are scared of these things. He wants to believe I'm imagining you guys, but anyway. Can I help you? Where are you?"

_It is hard to say. You see, my body is far away, sleeping. I just projected my spirit to Earth. I love watching humans, and sometimes I come down in dreams. Will you allow me to remain in your body for a little while?_

"...You're possessing me? Mama says not to let spirits to come inside me. It's too dangerous."

_Ah. Well, this is not a possession. I will not control your body or read your mind. I am just tagging along! I only want to see what you humans see, hear what you hear, touch what you touch, smell what you smell, taste what you taste. I shall leave long before the sun sets._

"Promise? You won't hurt anyone or me?"

_I solemnly swear. Just do your usual activities, I will not bother you._

"Okay. I'll trust in you, mister.” There was something about the presence that made Zeno feel warm inside, so he didn't think it was evil. “Let's do something fun!"

Zeno ran back to the hut and put on a bag a skin full of sheep milk, a slice of cheese, and an apple, for a mid-morning snack. He told his mother he was going to play with a friend, which wasn’t entirely a lie, and assured her he would be careful outside.

  


* * *

  


_What are those? Are they sheep, too? They smell so... strong._

"No, they're goats," Zeno pointed out at the villager taking two horned animals to the butchery. "And that's how animals smell like to us."

_Do all humans raise these fluffy creatures?_

"Well, no. My village lives off –what's the word?– husbandry of goats and sheep, so most families have a few of those. The valley has nice grass so the animals can graze a lot. Papa and I also herd for a rich family in the afternoons to get more money."

Through Zeno's eyes, the owner of the voice saw humble houses made of stone and straw, and beautiful mountains behind them looming at the distance. He kept explaining everything in the way, making sure to touch all textures in town and even felt his own face and clothes, for his guest's curiosity.

A couple of older boys yelled at Zeno and laughed at him when they saw him talking to himself. Zeno shook his head with a smile and passed in front of them. The paranormal being didn't have to ask further. By the mocking, it was obvious that those village kids thought he was creepy and a liar.

_Do they... hate you?_

The voice's question was filled with sadness, and he didn't like that.  


"They're just scared of what they can't understand," he murmured. "It's not all of them. I do have friends." He counted with his hands, the tact of finger touching other fingers lingering. "Kyo-soo, Juna, Yuri, Tae-en. Those are nice to me. I also have ghost friends, like the poor miss who drowned in the creek and the grandpa who's watching over his family. And our sheep love me, too! I don't mind these guys, they’re just jerks."

_If it helps, I think you are really cute, boy._

"Heh, thank you, sir. You haven't seen my face, though."

_It does not matter. And you will not see mine. We are even._

Zeno giggled and skipped around until he exited the village walls and arrived to a little forest by the creek. He touched and smelled every tree, every flower, every leaf in the way. His ears paid attention to every bird song, to the murmur of water streaming through the valley. The voice seemed amused and asked for every name for everything it saw. Zeno complied, but he only knew a few.

When his stomach rumbled, his companion was alarmed and urged him to eat. The lad sat on a large flat stone, safe from dangers. They tasted the cheese and the apple, and the voice was pleased by the flavors in Zeno's mouth just as if it had eaten the food itself.

_This delights me. Too bad that so many humans die of hunger and thirst... It pains me._

"They do?"

Zeno looked at the remaining milk, and wondered if there was a way to send it to someone who needed it. The voice was depressingly silent, so he decided to make it talk again.

"Mister? If you're not a 'human' then you're not a ghost. What are you?"

_I am a god, my good boy._

"...Oooooooh. What kind of god?"

_Dragon god._

"Dragon?!" Zeno's mouth opened wide and he spilled his milk by accident. "C-can you fly through the air? Is it true that you guys are giant snakes with hair and long whiskers? Do you have whiskers, mister dragon?"

The voice chuckled.

_My, so many questions. We can fly. We are not like serpents, as we have arms and legs. We do have hair and whiskers._

"Tae-en's mama bought jewelry with a dragon on it to a merchant on the neighbor village's festival. For good luck and protection, she said."

_Is that so?_

"Yup! My mama thinks she's just showing off. But dragons are so cool. Mister is probably cool."

_I thank you. I am not so sure about the last part. I want to help your folks, but I cannot do it from the Heavens with this body. This is why I am visiting different humans with spiritual powers in my dreams. I must learn about humankind before I... Ah, nevermind. You are too young, I do not want to burden you with my ideas._

"You visited people to learn? There are more people like me who can talk to ghosts and dragons?"

_There are, but most of them are priests and priestesses who live in temples. None has taught me what you did today, sweet child._

So there were others with the same powers. Zeno looked at the blue above, trying to figure out where the dragon god could be and hoping it could see his wide grin.

"I'm so glad! I hope you're happier today, mister dragon!"

_I am. It was a fine morning. But now I must wake up and bid you farewell._

"So soon? At least stay until lunch. We could play ball with my friends or pet the little lambs. Tell me about your priest friends and the other gods. Please, mister dragon! At least come back tomorrow!"

_I apologize but I cannot promise you anything. My mind drifted in dreams, and I do not know how to come back here to your mind again._

"Oh... It's... alright." The boy's tone betrayed his words. "Bye, mister."

_If destiny sees it fit, we shall meet again._

Suddenly, little Zeno's head felt lighter and he was alone, just with the sounds of birds and water for company. He stood up and slowly returned to the village, with a new tale for Lena about a kind, sweet dragon who loved the human race, soft fleece, bird songs, and juicy apples.

  


* * *

## Unexpected malady

Everything was bliss in the sun-kissed village by the valley until the animals died.

In general terms, Zeno had a lovely childhood. His parents were nice to him and taught him the family business along with the basic letters and numbers. Except for a couple of bullies, the other children of his age played with him and liked to listen to his creepy dreams and ghost stories; the contrast of the cute happy face made the tales more interesting. He wasn't fast or strong enough to be the star of their games, but his tiny hands were nimble and he could juggle objects in the air for longer than his friends. His smile was always bright so it was really hard to dislike him.

One night, that sunshine left his lips and eyes as he woke with a heed from the Heavens. He had seen all livestock from the valley, not just the village's flocks of sheep and goats, lying dead on piles on the ground. By then, he was mature and knowledgeable enough to understand the gravity of the situation. He told his parents over breakfast, with the most serious tone of voice.

While Zeno senior believed him this time, as it was nothing to joke about, he was too scared to tell the rest of the town. Lena frowned at her husband's cowardice, and left the house holding hands with her son. Both met with the village elder, conveying the warnings of a minor farming deity. The old man shook his head and said he refused to trust in the nightmares of a little boy who constantly spoke of spooky visions, or the flaky arguments of a housewife who let her child delude himself.

So that was it. The family did what they could to convince the neighbors to find a new way to sustain themselves that didn't include animals, tried to sell those best sheep they were raising for the market even if it wasn't the most profitable time and they got less money, planted seeds in their backyard, and prayed to the gods and hoped little Zeno's dreams were wrong.

They weren't. Almost all the farm animals and horses succumbed to a terrible, fulminant plague. Zeno cried the morning he found their stable filled with corpses. Even the tiny lambs were already surrounded by flies, their innocent eyes milky. He had just groomed them two days before. They had noticed the flock acted lethargic when he took them to pasture the previous day, but he had hoped it was just his paranoia and fear playing tricks on him. His father came to him running when he heard the boy’s wailing, and hugged him away from the stench.

"Son..."

"The babies, papa..." The boy sobbed. "They didn't deserve it..."

Zeno senior hugged him tighter. Little Zeno breathed on his shirt, needing air that didn’t reek of death. His father’s clothes still smelled of living animals and milk stains.

"I know, I know. Remember what I told you, the first time you saw your mama and me kill a sheep to eat it?"

"You said... that everything that lives... will return to the Heavens."

"That's right. They just returned earlier, that's all. That was their fate, even if it's sad."

There was a silence only interrupted by the kid's hiccups.

"Papa? Do you feel bad for them?"

"I do, but I'm more worried about us humans..." The man's messy mousy hair shook with the rest of his head, and tenderly patted his son on the back. "Come on, help me dispose them. We can’t let them stay here."

He had every reason to be concerned. The village never fully recovered. Some families had fruit trees and vegetable patches, but there weren't enough animals in the area to hunt. After a short time, the creek ran out of fish as well. The youth didn't have enough intake of animal proteins, so that generation grew up to be short, sickly, and malnourished. Tae-en's family had enough money to move to a city. Kyo-soo died of illness, or perhaps of hunger. The daughter and grandchildren of the old ghost joined him in Heaven. Zeno's family didn't starve, but they didn't have enough food to soothe their hunger either. They couldn't afford meat or dairy from the expensive merchants. There wasn't work for shepherds anymore.

The gods' voices didn't talk about the fate of the valley anymore. Eventually, he dreamed frequently of a faceless man with red hair instead.

  


* * *

## Unexpected decision

One rainy night, after a lacking supper, Zeno's parents asked him to stay and talk about something important.

"Dear little Zeno... I'm pregnant. Your dad and I talked about it, and it'll be a problem."

He could see it. They barely had to eat as they were. A new mouth to feed would be impossible. If Lena wasn't fed well enough during the pregnancy, she would become weaker and her own life could even be in danger.

"What can we do, mama? I can scavenge better herbs from the woods for you! Try to kill birds with stones! I'll help my baby brother or sister as much as I can."

Zeno senior took a deep breath. The raindrops echoed on the straw rooftop and the stone walls.

"That won't do. You know I love you, right?" Little Zeno nodded at his words, fearing for the worst. "I hate doing this, but it'll also help your future. I raised you to be a shepherd, but there's nowhere in this whole area where you or I can work. No one has taken flocks or cattle after the plague. I'm getting older, but you're thirteen now. You're the perfect age to learn a new trade, if you find someone who'd take you as an apprentice."

"There's no one in town who would...” The pouring grew louder as he realized where the conversation was going. “You... want me gone, then?"

"Yeah, but we want you safe and healthy as well. You still have time to get a new life away from this dead village before it's too late, Zeno."

The boy clenched his fists and bit his lip. He understood, but they were asking so much of him. Even if it was for the best, he was getting replaced by a new baby and abandoned to his luck.

"Honey," said his mom, a bell ringing above the beginning of a storm. "I've thought about the kind of apprenticeships that would suit you, and I know the perfect job for you. If you can't be a shepherd of sheep, you could be a shepherd of men. How about working at the temple by the foot of Mount Hoon? Your gift to see the future and hear the gods is your best talent, and it's wasted here."

The temple? He had only gone once and couldn't remember it well.

"Your mother had a good idea. She taught you how to write and you're good at that... spiritual thing. They might take you."

"Take him, dear?" Lena laughed. "I'm sure they'll make him a priest when he's an adult!"

A priest... Zeno would've much preferred to work with animals, but his mama's words were a revelation. In the last few years, he had seen people suffering from poverty, hunger, and disease. Maybe the clergy could give him the power, knowledge, or tools to help others in need. True, he couldn't do much for his village or his family anymore, but in the big scale of things... he might do something important for someone while he saved his mama and sibling's life.

He smiled brightly at his parents, to their relief. A part of him was still dismayed, but he found comfort and strength. By seeing the other side of the coin and all the good he could do, sacrificing his past life didn't seem so bad.

  


* * *

## Unexpected covenant

The scales of the dragon were pure iridescence, like sunshine casting light on a statue made of gold. Its face was terrifying, yet much less than the icons on the altar that he saw everyday. He couldn't see its body, just eyes and jaws in a gigantic face. It was judging and scrutinizing his soul. It was saying something to him, something important.

A chalice appeared between them. Drops of blood coming from the dragon's nose dripped inside and blended together. He knew what he had to do. He held it. He raised it up and...

“Cock-a-doodle-doo!”

...Sanmyo Temple's rooster crowed to announce the dawn. Zeno sat all of a sudden, his eyes refusing to open up completely. The other young men in the room groaned from their futons. He looked around as his mates hurried to get ready for the morning service. Soon enough he followed them, his mind still in a haze, as he tried to remember the parts of the dream he was already forgetting. No use. He had no idea what that yellow dragon had told him.

Was that a message from a god, a prophetic dream, or just a regular dream? In those days, it was hard to say.

  


* * *

  


Sanmyo might’ve been the third largest temple of the region, but it was the most respected. Nine priests were in charge of the prayers and ceremonies in the name of the gods; three stayed in the holy grounds, and the others traveled to wherever they were needed. Besides them, they could only afford a staff of five acolyte boys. They took turns to do chores and help the priests with their jobs. That morning, Zeno's duty was sweeping the floors.

After he was finished with his daily task, he offered a hand to the newest and youngest of the guys, who had to polish the main altar. Zeno was exhausted, but he remembered how hard it was when he was new at the job, four springs ago. The boy didn't take it well, and he said he could handle it well without a weakling who was shorter and thinner than him butting in. Zeno just smiled politely and left to memorize some sutras at the library. They all yearned to become a priest one day, and they were studying hard to make themselves noticed. It was natural that some of them weren't interested in friendship.

He snoozed as he read the scriptures, thanks to the dullness of the verses and the scent of sandalwood incense. Long red hair and chains, and sounds of crying that didn't come from the imprisoned man. See, that one was real, that was a message. 'Free the king.'

"Zeno!"

He jumped awake and did a reverence since he recognized the voice well. It was Priest Mu-don, the head of the temple.

"Just the lad I wanted to see. Lord Kil is concerned and has sent a messenger this morning. Is Hiryuu still a prisoner?"

"It seems so, Priest. He refuses the help of the gods, so the Heavens are looking for humans to free him."

"Oh, that sounds bad. We shall deliver that message. Brother Geon, bring the servant."

Another priest let a man in a traveling cloak in.

"I have talked to the gods," announced Mu-don, with a theatrical flare, "and they informed me in person that they could not release the Divine King from the heathen captors. It's in our mortal hands to rescue His Majesty before it's too late. Please inform our lord of the will of the Heavenly Realm."

Zeno frowned as he watched the messenger leave in a hurry and sighed. Mu-don sure looked satisfied, as a good donation to the temple would come as his reputation as a seer improved. In reality, the priest had no powers. The reason why he let Zeno stay as an altar boy, such a coveted position in those times of crisis, was obvious. The teen couldn't say he enjoyed being used like that, but he knew there was a better chance for his voices to be heard if they came from the mouth of a famed holy man. He was just a scrawny peasant boy. Things would change when he became a priest, but this was all he could do to reach important ears. 

(Besides, Mu-don sent a bonus pay every month to Zeno's parents and little sister, perhaps to shut him up, and they really needed the extra money. Zeno already sent all his salaries to them after covering his basic expenses anyway.)

And he was glad he could help King Hiryuu somehow. For years he'd dreamed of him and his actions to build his kingdom. He wasn't the only person in the kingdom who had the visions, but it was thanks to Zeno's revelations to Mu-don that Lord Kil and General Yeon-tae had sworn to be his vassals. Zeno was glad to support him in his own way. He knew that man was a god, he knew of his goal to make a better place, and he deeply admired his noble heart. Hiryuu reminded him of that kind dragon god that played with him once when he was little, for some reason.

He continued studying until noon. During the second service, Zeno prayed that someone could rescue King Hiryuu. Afterwards, he consulted Priest Mu-don about his dream with the dragon and the chalice, in case it was related. The middle-aged man thought it was just symbolism, not a prophecy.

"Dreaming of dragons is always an omen of good fortune, and yellow is a color of divine protection against evil. To see a chalice in a dream represents your need for spiritual nourishment, and drinking blood indicates that you have a fresh burst of vitality and power."

"Uh... then what?"

"It's a really auspicious dream, my lad. I'm sure this bodes well for you and our temple!"

The Priest didn't seem worried. Then why did that incomplete dream make him so nervous?

  


* * *

  


The Yellow Dragon came up with a different approach to its companions. Sure, strong warriors would be nice. Sure, grateful people who desired the power would be nice. Sure, loyal followers would be nice. But how about the emotional needs that Hiryuu had? He longed for companionship. He longed for support and love. He longed for understanding. And as much as the four dragons might loathe it and find it naive, Hiryuu longed overall for kindness. To have smiles reflecting his own. Someone akin to him.  


The Yellow Dragon looked inside Hiryuu's heart. It remembered all the stories Hiryuu, then the Red Dragon, had told them of its visits to humankind in its slumber. And the story that made Hiryuu smile the most was the pure child who taught it of fluffy animals and tasty food while others had showered it with reverences and prayers. The Red Dragon had perhaps loved that tiny human. A familiar, cheerful face should bring the king some comfort in his darkest days.

Of course, giving a kind, loving human soul the gift of immortality was the worst curse you could inflict to it. It's unknown if the dragon ever realized that, or even seemed to care.

  


* * *

  


He heard the beckoning voice after dinner. He was at the main halls with the refugees, entertaining a few children with his juggling tricks. He felt more at ease with these nice strangers than with the other acolytes or the priests. They all smiled quicker, and he ended up grinning back as well. A woman shared a bread loaf with her son; Zeno had hidden it in his tunic shirt during the meal. A sick old man sipped loquat tea; Zeno had sneaked it into a bottle. There weren't many food reserves in the temple to feed all the starving people, so often the boy would sacrifice part of his night rations to ease their hunger.

The sacks fell to the tiled stone floor when he heard the mutters, soft yet clearer than the service bells. They urged him to come, out of the temple walls. Hoping it was a benevolent spirit, he went back to the common chambers to fetch his cloak, and then sneaked out to the mountains behind the towers. He walked in a dreamlike state until he met the source of the call.

Even if he had talked to dragon gods several times, meeting one in flesh and bone was a different experience. The vision didn't prepare him for its tremendous size, the pressure of the wind around them that made his ears pop, the boom of the voice that made the earth shake. Everything about it floated in the air: its long mane behind its two antlers, its whiskers, its serpentine body, its sharp claws.

He made a partial sign of reverence and wrapped his cloak around himself tighter. The dragon then landed, its hind legs hanging onto the earth. Just one toenail was twice as long as Zeno's head.

_If I am not mistaken, child of man, I do not have to introduce myself to you or explain the reason why I am here. You can hear our laments._

"Yes, mister dragon," Zeno nodded with a serious expression. "You want to help King Hiryuu by human means. So do I. I believe he can make this land and the people in it happier. Do you want the head priest to send a message to one of the lords or generals? I can arrange that."

_Child, that kind of help would be useless. What we are looking for is four warriors, with sacred powers given by each of us, to serve and protect Hiryuu in our behalf. By accepting our dragon blood within them, they will agree to the pact and gain abilities beyond mortal imagination in exchange of loyalty. Unlike my siblings, my gift to my warrior shall extend to his entire body._

Zeno couldn't help but think it was incredible. And suddenly, he realized the dream he had wasn't auspicious randomness but a very literal thing that was going to happen to someone. But before he could offer his help to search for a suitable person, he saw the dragon was staring at him expectantly. As if it was looking for an answer. But that couldn't be... Could it?

_You asserted your desire to help Hiryuu and his cause. Will you not accept my blood and become my Dragon Warrior, child?_

The dragon... had come for him? A peasant teenager with no muscle definition, who had never touched a sword, who swayed under the weight of too much lumber. The only things he had ever killed were lambs, bugs, and a very dumb bird one time. How could the Yellow Dragon expect him to fight wars? Why had it chosen him, with so many strong men and women in the country?

"Me? A Dragon Warrior?" He looked at the dragon in its deep eyes. "I'm not a hero, nor am I strong. I can't become a warrior. But..."

But... being next to Hiryuu and being of real help. Being finally a part of something larger than himself. The only meaningful thing his current self could do then was sharing leftovers with the sick and the children behind the priests' backs. If Hiryuu survived, it might be easier for him to sustain not only his family but the entire valley and the entire tribe. What could he do, sweeping floors in Mount Hoon while the new nation collapsed?

"If someone like me... can make the world and everyone in it a bit better and happier, then..." Zeno frowned with determination, and moved his arms forward in invitation. "Give that dragon blood!"

The Yellow Dragon smirked and did so. Turns out that the chalice wasn't a metaphor either, and the dream didn't prepare him for the copper taste that burned his throat or the excruciating pain as the blood weaved his body's fabrics into a brand new kind of existence.

Time to look forward and leave, no matter his aching, no matter the sacrifices. Fate was waiting. His master was waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you so much to Dawgy ([gloriousrumpoflife](http://archiveofourown.org/users/gloriousrumpoflife)) for the quick beta work! Well, that wraps up the Original Dragons' backstories! I'm leaving an open idea for a possible Hiryuu-centric chapter, obviously. He's the hardest, but at least I'm decided to continue the connection with Zeno.
> 
> Something I didn't mention in Shuten's story was that I came up with the ideas of him being a former slave much before chapter 105 came out. The backfire in his case was that his descendants had been bound in literal chains since childhood much like he was. So when canon Zeno mentions that Shuten would be appalled, I felt so satisfied! I guess that's a small victory or something.
> 
> As you see, Zeno's story was much longer and richer than the rest. In part it's because he's my favorite character so I had more headcanons, in part because he's part of the main cast so having a larger grasp on him (and possibilities to tie in references to other things in his life) really helps.
> 
> A lot of pre Dragon Kool-aid backstories for the Broriginals have popped in since I started this collection. Many of them are much cooler than mine. But that's all right; that was the point. I wanted these guys to have more normal lives, coming from all corners of society. We have a soldier, a nobleman, a mercenary, and a peasant. Two lived in privilege, yet one had a purpose and charisma while the other felt empty and untalented. Two lived in poverty and strife, yet one lived in sin in a city while the other talked to gods in the countryside. None of them are similar except in the fact they drank the blood. Contrasts are good.


	6. Stars above and below

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abi and Hiryuu share a moment under the night sky. Written for the prompt "things you said under the stars and in the grass."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that the OAD is out, I... remembered I never uploaded my other broriginal dragons ficlets to AO3. Brilliant, self! So I'll be doing that slowly, putting them together in this compilation.

He found his master in the same spot he knew he would be: lying down in the garden grounds around the castle areas, without a care in the world. That would be nice if it wasn’t past dinnertime and the man wasn’t the king. Abi didn’t need to see through the walls of the palace to know that someone should be frantic by now, looking for him.

Hiryuu’s crimson locks and lilac robes were flowing in a sea of grass, an unnatural yet beautiful chaos of color among the greenery and the white chrysanthemums.

“King,” Abi said with an arched eyebrow and his hands tucked inside his sleeves, “you’re acting bothersome again tonight.”

“Am I?” Hiryuu laughed as though a little kid had said a cute word. “Seiryuu’s eyes can’t miss anything out.”

“At least bring one of us with you in your escapades.” Abi sighed loudly. “You’ll get caught by the enemy if you sneak out alone. Also, your clothes are getting sullied with filth.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you, Abi. You’re right, of course.”

“You’re a king, not a child. Act with more dignity! I shouldn’t be scolding you, my lord.”

Hiryuu nodded with a wise yet irritating grin.

“I apologize. I just wanted to see the sky tonight very clearly. It’s the anniversary, you know?”

Abi’s golden eyes opened up wider. King Hiryuu never talked about the days before he descended from the skies and became a human being. Abi thought that perhaps Hiryuu didn’t like the dragon days of his life that much, but it was impossible to tell with such a mysterious master. Was this remembrance a mourning for his immortality or a celebration of his human birthday?

“The stars were in this position on my first night on Earth. And they will be every year, on this date. Amazing, isn’t it?” His soft smile was inscrutable. Abi still wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing for Hiryuu.

“It is amazing, my king…”

“Come sit by my side and stargaze with me. You’re making me nervous, standing up like a palace guard.”

“You want me to get dirt stains all over my clean tunic,” Abi complained. He sat down regardless, his knees bent upwards, and he made sure most of the turquoise fabric would stay tucked between his legs. The long sash behind his ass would be a hopeless mess afterwards.

Abi felt tempted to grab those red strands of hair, now scattered over the vegetation, between his fingers. The king’s hair had such a pretty color. He shook his head from the idea; that’s the kind of childish thought Ouryuu would have. So he followed Hiryuu’s stare and looked up.

His powers as the Blue Dragon had a few setbacks, but his favorite perk was the Sight. Abi loved to See everything whenever they weren’t in battle. Mountains and valleys, seas and deserts, cities and villages, flora and fauna, heaven and earth. The velvet night sky in particular was so vibrant and spectacular. Every single star shone with flashes of all kinds of colors. There were few craters on the surface of the moon that he couldn’t See. He could tell the shapes of the constellations, and new others undiscovered. Those moments made all those embarrassing times in paralysis worth the suffering.

“You like the sky, don’t you, Abi?” He heard Hiryuu’s voice. “I can tell by your smile.”

“Of course. I’ve liked it even before I had these eyes. I used to look at it a lot when I was stressed out.”

“How did it look like, back at your old home’s window? Was it pretty there, too?”

“It was blurry as hell, sir. Did you forget I had bad eyesight before?”

“Oh, right, sorry.” Hiryuu chuckled. “I worded the question wrong. I meant the whole landscape.”

“Still blurry. But I could tell it was nice anyway.”

Hiryuu nodded, and went back to glancing. A silence fell for a couple of minutes.

“How was Heaven like, King? Was it as beautiful above as it is below?”

There, he finally asked the question. He waited until the redhead put his thoughts in order.

“It’s… hard to explain. There are no words in human tongues to describe some of the things in the celestial realms. And dragons don’t perceive beauty the same way. It’s a shame to admit it aloud, but my memories of it are getting as blurry as your old eyes were. I never know what to say when others ask me about the Heavens, so I come off as a charlatan who pretends to be a dragon. I’m a sad case.”

“It’s a pity… But I think you’re living the present and looking forward to the future. And if they don’t want to believe you were a god, we Warriors can gladly convince them.” Abi drummed his pointing fingers over the red markings on his face. ”Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with that. We humans also forget things.”

“I guess you’re right. To be honest, what I can recall the most is looking down to Earth. I loved doing that. Now I stare at the firmament instead, which is the opposite!” Hiryuu’s purple eyes sparkled in the darkness. “But yes, Earth was so beautiful to me. Still is. And I watched you humans struggle, constantly. That’s how I grew to love you and decided to be with you.”

“But from that height, we must’ve looked like tiny ants, dragging crumbs of food.”

Hiryuu sit up and made eye contact. His hair was tangled with blades of grass, which Abi found incredibly distracting.

“Well, ants are hardworking so I don’t see it as an insult. But no.” Hiryuu put his hands on Abi’s shoulders, and his excited grin was as bright as the astral bodies over their heads. “Don’t you see? You humans are my _stars_. You can radiate your own lights, if you’re given a chance to shine. Even when the night is too dark, I can’t get tired of seeing that.”

Abi thought that if someone was a shining star on Earth, that was Hiryuu. Whether that was the blood of the dragon or not, he was entranced by the king’s otherworldly glow and the stupid grass covering his body. He could feel a blush rising on his cheeks when he realized he was gawking.

“Well, you are literally a star on earth now, King.” He grumbled with some affection. “Look at your robes, for the gods’ sake. And you touch me with your dusty hands.”

“Oops… I got carried away.”

Hiryuu moved his hands away. Abi sighed.

“It can’t be helped. Enough stargazing. Let’s go back and get your long hair washed before someone in the castle gets a heart attack with the sights of you.”

Hiryuu nodded. They helped each other to stand up, patted their clothes clean as much as possible, and walked towards the large building.

“Thank you for watching the stars with me, dear Abi.”

“…It was my pleasure,” Abi smirked.

Millions of stars shone above. Two stars shone below.


	7. Tipsy twirl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Hiryuu's birthday celebration, and the Dragons decide to have a little drinking contest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is a collaboration with Buriko ([buri-art](http://buri-art.tumblr.com) @ tumblr.) After I wrote [Dance to Forget and Remember](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3972415), which featured my crack headcanon for the dragon dance that showed up in the anime, we chatted about Guen and Zeno trolling people and how this dance came to be. Months later, she remembered the conversation because of a prompt murkymuse found, which ended on her [doodling](http://buri-art.tumblr.com/post/116426893093/taotrooper-buri-art-murkymuse-i-think) our idea. Skip to months later, on Buri's birthday, and I wrote all of our brainstorming on a full fic as her gift, which is this one. She in turn couldn't help it and [drew the last scene](http://buri-art.tumblr.com/post/137151897413/tipsy-twirl).
> 
> Fanart below and part of the dialog by the lovely, funny Buri. Summing up: Fanfic based on a fanart based on a conversation based on a fanfic based on a headcanon based on an anime scene! Are you guys dizzy yet?

Joyous music could be heard through all the palace, and the smell of delicious food invaded every corner of the halls where the celebration took place. The court had gathered inside after the festivities in the castle town had begun, after the King had motivated the hearts of the people with his speech about hope and unity and good wishes. Still, Zeno thought, Hiryuu seemed a bit overwhelmed with the protocol and the feast for the noblemen. Even though only his closest confidants and their families were invited, instead of every lord and lady in the newly-formed kingdom, it seemed to the boy that the man would rather spend his birthday with the masses outside.

Of course, the birthday was just the commemoration of the date when he became a human. Technically speaking, Hiryuu as a god didn’t have a known birth date. However, it was important to have a day dedicated to him, to be glad he was among them.

Zeno wasn’t comfortable. The food was exquisite, but he had to keep the manners that Seiryuu had drilled into him. He was also forced into majestic long-sleeved silk robes by a lady-in-waiting, of colors that supposedly complemented his golden hair that now threatened to escape the bun it had been tied into. Hakuryuu and Ryokuryuu had decided to ignore the etiquette lessons, but the murderous glare from their companion —and Ouryuu was sure it took Abi all his self-control to have not murdered someone yet with those eyes— just made Zeno hold on to his unnecessary porcelain spoon harder.

After the banquet was over and most of the people had retired to their chambers, Hiryuu looked more lively.

“Actually, I’m really glad,” the king grinned. “This is the first birthday I get to spend with you four. May it be the first of many.”

“Of course it will be!” Hakuryuu was eating a roasted pheasant leg, and he hadn’t finished chewing while he talked. “We’ll protect you, my King.”

“As long as you don’t do something stupid again, King.” Ryokuryuu shrugged.

“That’s why we’re here,” Seiryuu agreed, and added. “Please close your mouth, Hakuryuu. It’s unsightly.”

Zeno stared at his dessert dish in silence. He couldn’t assert anything about the King’s protection. He had been a Dragon Warrior for eight, almost nine months and he hadn’t done anything worthy of his position or duty.

Perhaps Guen had noticed his sadness, or perhaps it was blind, foolish timing.

“Let’s make a toast, for us Dragon Warriors and our bond to the king.”

“Finally you say something clever, White,” Shuten showed his crocodile teeth. “Maids, bring the best sake we have. The best vintage! It’s the dumb King’s birthday!”

“Showing your true colors, huh?” Abi sighed.

“What, are you scared of booze, fainting princeling? You look like a total lightweight.”

“What did you say? I’ll let you know I can hold my liquor.”

“Show it, then. Let’s have a drinking competition. All of us, actually. Brother bear, the King, even the useless brat.”

“Hey now, Green,” Hakuryuu raised his dragon hand. “Leave Hiryuu and Ouryuu out of it.”

“Sounds like fun!” Hiryuu chirped.

All the Dragons but Shuten sighed in defeat.

“But Zeno shouldn’t drink if he’s not comfortable with it.”

Something burned inside Zeno’s chest. He had been shafted for almost a year, and once again they were going to make him the outsider. And at a party, no less! The battlefield was another thing and he had no voice there, but that time it wouldn’t do.

“I’m drinking!” he cried. “I’m almost eighteen, my King. I’m not a baby.”

“You could’ve fooled me,” Shuten snickered. “Oh, this will be fun.”

“Well, if you don’t dislike it, then it’s alright,” Hiryuu beamed. “This will indeed be fun.”

 

* * *

 

Before becoming a Dragon Warrior, Zeno had drunk short sips during religious ceremonies in the temple he’d been working at as an altar boy. They were supposed to purify the body before praying to the gods, and he suspected there wouldn’t be anything pure about this event, and that the closest to a god to pray was the giddy redhead sitting in front of him. He had never drunk whole cups as the little ceramic ones in front of him and the others. The maids knelt next to each man, bottles of sake in their hands, ready to refill.

Very few people had stayed in the party by then. Zeno couldn’t blame them: there were violent people with dragon body parts about to achieve intoxication. That was a recipe for disaster.

“Remember,” Shuten said with a mischievous expression. “the rules for disqualification are retching, puking, fainting, falling asleep, or just falling. Last man standing wins. Ready, set, go!”

The taste was strong. On the first shot, Zeno felt the alcohol going straight to his head. It was merely a sort of a prick, however. After a couple of blinks, he was able to focus on the girl’s movement next to him. The next shot was ready. Not wanting to stay behind, he swallowed again. He was warned this time, so he took it much better.

By the fourth shot, he found the game to be easier than he expected. Perhaps the sake wasn’t as strong as Ryokuryuu would want?

The first one to fall was King Hiryuu, unsurprisingly. He fell even in a literal sense, sliding off the table until he had reached the floor. Long red curls sprayed on the rug. He had not fainted: he was just giggling and muttering nonsense. It was probably for the best, and Zeno could see the other three agreed from the look on their faces.

The next disqualification was Seiryuu. Even though Abi could indeed hold his liquor, at some point he was running toward a bucket and emptying his stomach, perhaps around the eighth or ninth cup. Shuten laughed until he cried. Fortunately for him, Abi was too queasy to scream back, let alone paralyze anyone.

“Well, not that it’s not surprising but…” Guen trailed off. Zeno understood immediately: they had all suspected he would be the first of the Four Dragons to be out of the game. Thinking about it, even himself was surprised. He didn’t feel particularly dizzy, or sick, or weird, or anything beyond a little pleasant shudder whenever he drank something.

The game continued for a long while, for so many shots that Zeno was losing count. Hiryuu and Abi watched with attention, their faces in tones of red and green respectively.

“Hey, I saw that!” Shuten yelled suddenly. “Hakuryuu, you just retched!”

“What?! You…!”

“I saw you!”

“As much as I hate to say it, he’s right,” Abi said, now feeling better. “You just swallowed bile, not sake, and you’d already drunk your cup before.”

“Hahahaha, Seiryuu’s eyes are amazing!” Hiryuu laughed, lying on his belly.

“…Alright.” Guen put his cup down. “I have lost.” And then he added softly: “I’m still drinking out of the competition anyway.”

“Yes!” Ryokuryuu roared. “I’m the winner!”

“Nope, you’re not yet,” Zeno said calmly, still sober, still healthy, considerably less red-faced than anyone else. “I haven’t lost yet, after all.”

Shuten stared, eyes wide open, as if his cup had just spoken to him instead.

“True. He hasn’t,” Abi grinned.

“Oh ho ho. Avenge us, little brother,” Guen patted Zeno’s back.

“Ugh. Not for long,” Shuten blushed deeper and swung his cup toward his maid. Excited, Zeno nodded to his own maid.

The fight resumed. With every drink, his rival looked more and more agitated. Meanwhile, Zeno began to wonder if the reason why he hadn’t felt drunk was the same he hadn’t died on the battlefield that one time. The sake had to be good if everyone but Ryokuryuu was out of combat. Maybe the alcohol wasn’t soft: maybe he was too hard.

If his ‘strong’ body couldn’t get drunk, did that mean that a victory in a drinking game wouldn’t count?

_Screw it_ , Zeno decided. After all, his blood brothers kept cheating at everything with their own powers. For once that he did it, why should it matter? Besides, in his opinion, that might teach Ryokuryuu a lesson about counting his chickens before they hatched.

Zeno untied his bun and started to smile and laugh aloud, fangs visible. He still was sober, but he wanted to make the others believe he was feeling more affected than he actually was. If Ryokuryuu felt cockier and drank faster, that would work in his advantage.

Suddenly, Shuten looked quite stiff on his seat.

“Well, fuck,” he moaned before he faded and landed on his back, unconscious.

“I win?!” Zeno cackled, looking more surprised than he actually was. The other three joined in a chorus of laughter and claps. The two maids that were still serving drinks seemed relieved and alarmed at the same time. It felt incredible to win at something, especially against someone who called him useless and weak on a daily basis.

“Are you sleeping, Shuten?” a still drunken Hiryuu approached the defeated. The king slapped his cheeks softly a few times.

“Stay back,” a tipsy Abi said as he poured a glass of water on Shuten’s face.

“WHAT THE HELL?” the man spurted and coughed.

“He’s awake now!” Hiryuu chirped.

“Hmph, the brat got lucky,” Ryokuryuu pouted as he dried his wet face with the tablecloth. “I had some sake while I ate dinner, so technically I drank more than Ouryuu. Doesn’t count.”

“Sore looooooser,” Zeno said as he took a new shot. He could make it a tradition, to defeat Shuten in every drinking game they ever had in the future. Still on the table, an amused Guen was sipping straight from a bottle.

“Shuten, Abi, Zeno, Guen…” Hiryuu suddenly hiccuped, tears in his eyes. “I love you four so much! I mean it. I love you, my cute dragons…” Even Zeno was blushing for reasons that weren’t alcohol.

“King, go to your room, you’re drunk,” Abi said, deadpan, now redder than greener. A cup was back on his hands.

“Aren’t you drunk as well?” Zeno whispered to his cup between his teeth. “Aren’t you all, for that matter?”

“To show you my affection to you, I shall dance!” Hiryuu got up, stumbling a little. “Look at me!”

Zeno was expecting the king to stumble into something, considering his state, but in the end nothing bad happened. He watched as the man slowly folded his left arm across his chest, and extended out his right arm. Then he started twirling in circles like a spinning top, and his crimson hair painted trails in the air as he sped up. In Zeno’s opinion, the fact that Hiryuu wasn’t getting dizzy from those moves after drinking so much was double impressive.

In fact, despite the steps being silly, the beauty and elegance of the man made the dance very graceful. It was almost like seeing a real dragon flying in the sky. From Guen and Abi’s entranced light in their eyes, he could read they felt the same way. Shuten, who was the most drunken of all, found it hilarious instead. Zeno started clapping to the rhythm in appreciation. The maids and other few lords and ladies who had stayed in the banquet hall followed his example.

“Do you guys like it? This dragon dance?” Hiryuu asked when he made a pause and put on a shawl that a young noble lady had thrown to him in excitement.

“Yup!” Zeno cheered.

“That’s a holy dance of the Dragon Gods from the Heavens, isn’t it?” Guen asked in awe.

“What? No… I don’t think so. I’m certain I made it all up just now!”

“…Is that so…” Hakuryuu looked a little disappointed.

“Abi, Abi, Abi!” Hiryuu ran toward Seiryuu and pulled his warrior’s arms. “Come dance with me!”

“Why me?!” The young man fretted and flustered. “King, I’m still all nauseous from— Nooooooo!”

“Yeaaaaaah! Bwahahahaha!” Shuten kept chortling as Hiryuu twirled and twirled with the dismayed, now purple-faced Abi in a new, improvised dance. The young lady who threw the shawl and her sister were swooning. A clever maid fetched another bucket and stayed closer, just in case.

“Y'know what?” Guen passed his arm across Zeno’s shoulders. “If anyone ever asks us to teach them, like, some sacred holy dragon shit or whatever… We should show 'em this dance. Just for laughs.”

“That’s a funny idea, Hakuryuu!” Zeno agreed.

“Make this pact with me, brothers!” Guen stood up and howled, fists raised towards the ceiling.

“Okay, why not!” Zeno imitated him and finished his bottle. That would be interesting.

More gag sounds and a stream of laughs informed them of the situation across the improvised dance floor. Zeno felt sorry for Abi and decided to save him. After all, he likely couldn’t get sick of his stomach that night.

“My King, can you teach me your new dragon dance?” he skipped to his master’s side. “It looks pretty!”

“Of course, Zeno! Put your arms like this!”

“There’s no way he won’t puke, too!” Shuten rubbed his hands together in glee. Abi felt so bad he collapsed on Ryokuryuu’s lap and immediately dozed off. Guen sat again and tenderly cleared the sweat from Seiryuu’s forehead and neck with the sleeves of Shuten’s jacket.

This was a fun night, Zeno thought as he spun around without a care.

 

* * *

 

 


	8. Music under the maple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zeno finds out that Abi likes to play the flute.

Zeno wasn’t escaping work. No, sir. He was on his way to fill his hungry stomach, which was distracting him from the complicated report he needed to redact. And afterwards, he would interview some officials in order to gain information and opinions on this most delicate subject. It was definitely not slacking off. It just seemed like he was strolling in direction to the kitchens.

Of course, he would take his sweet time to do both of those things. The sun shined brightly in a blue sky where only little white clouds floated without a care. A soft breeze caressed his sun-kissed hair. It would be a waste of a spring afternoon to rush back to a desk.

The royal cooks were in a fantastic mood, too. One of them, a motherly lady who always hummed while she stirred soups, pushed food on his hands. Molin-san was glad to help the adorable Lord Ouryuu, who reminded him so much of his son at that age —called Mun-en, Zeno had heard at least twenty times. The young man had mixed feelings, as he wished to be considered an equal to the other Dragons, but he really liked that woman’s warmth and couldn’t be aloof or just say no to her kind gestures.

That’s how Zeno ended up crossing the stone hallways with two meatbuns and a pat on the head. He decided to have his snack on the yard, perhaps under the shade of a leafy tree. With such a splendid weather, it seemed a perfect idea.

Soft music came from under an old, lush maple. Zeno got closer, until he saw hair locks as blue as the clear firmament. Abi sat under the tree as he played a refined flute. His golden eyes were closed in concentration. His pet bird peeped to the rhythm on his shoulder. Zeno stopped on his steps, unable to refrain a smile. He rarely saw Abi so content. His fellow dragon looked so elegant and even endearing, in a way.

Then Abi paused.

“I can see you over there smirking, Ouryuu,” he said.

“Eh? How?” Zeno tilted his head.

“I can even see through my eyelids, you know,” he explained.

“Guess you can’t be surprised by anyone from the front, then!” Zeno ran to his encounter. “Do you mind if I sit nearby, Seiryuu?”

“Well, actually I do…” Abi blinked and bit his lip. “This is my private time, just to myself.”

“Oh. I’ll leave, then.” Zeno tousled his own mane. “Sorry I disturbed your flute practice.”

He turned around and took a few steps away when Abi’s voice called out to him.

“Fine, you can stay. But promise me that you won’t mock my music.”

“I won’t.” Zeno didn’t sit under the maple tree. He lay down on the grass next to him, welcoming the sunshine on his face. “There’s nothing to mock, anyway. You play really well!”

“…You think so?” Abi’s eyes looked at the instrument in his hand. “I’m not even in a professional level. I can only do justice to a few songs.”

Zeno unfolded the paper wrap of his meatbuns. “So? You’re having fun and it still sounds pretty; that’s what counts. Want one?”

“Thanks, but I’m fine. I just had candied peach at teatime.” Abi leaned towards Zeno. “Fun, huh? I supposed that comes from your area of expertise.”

“I’m on a break! I plan to do my research after my meal. Can’t work with an empty stomach!” Zeno didn’t think he had much fun in the castle overall, and he had the feeling that neither did Seiryuu. The only one who seemed to be enjoying himself all the time, even under stress, was Ryokuryuu.

“Food is for you what music is for me,” Abi whispered before he took his flute again. He played a sad, serious song first while Zeno munched the first bun. It was the kind that noblemen praised all the time, poetry for the ears. A couple of notes were off, but it still sounded pretty. Zeno applauded and grinned politely. The second song was happier in tempo; Zeno clapped to the rhythm after he had finished the other meatbun.

“It seems you’re having a good time, Ouryuu,” Abi stared after he was done, an amused light in his dragon eyes.

“Do you take requests?” Zeno teased. “Please play ‘Lady Hummingbird’! You know it, don’t you? Since it’s about a bird and you liked them a lot.”

“I do know it but it’s not about the birds, you dullard,” Abi sighed. “It’s a metaphor for the woman the author loved.”

“That’s just your interpretation,” Zeno chuckled. “Do you want to play it? I’ll sing it with you. A duet!”

“You just want to slack off for a little longer.” Zeno opened his eyes wide since he had forgotten about the report. Abi shared an awkward look with his pet and some flush appeared on his cheeks. “Another time, probably…” Gold locked on blue as Abi looked at Zeno in the eye. “Hey, Ouryuu. Promise me you won’t tell this to the others.”

“Yeah, sure. What?”

“I’m sort of terrible at composing songs, but I want to write one about Hiryuu. It’s silly since he has more than enough musicians who are better than me. And yet, I want to convey my respect and my bond to him.”

“That’s amazing,” Zeno said. “You should do it, absolutely. He’s going to love it.”

“He is terribly lenient and tasteless when it comes to us four,” Abi admitted. “When I advance more on that work, will you listen and give me your honest opinion? I can’t ask the others; Hakuryuu will make a fuss and Ryokuryuu will be insufferable. I guess you are…the least annoying? The most sensible?”

Zeno felt a knot in his throat. He hadn’t expected Abi to have such an opinion of him. He thought he disliked him and considered him useless just like the others. Perhaps he had misunderstood that apparently cold, aloof personality. The fact he wished to write the King a song showed a lot of heart.

“It’ll be an honor,” he beamed and bowed.

“Good. Don’t expect greatness, though.” Abi was still blushing. “Now off you go. You’ve been distracted for long enough.”

“Oh, right, the report… Off to talk to my captains…” Zeno sighed and got up with a hop, cleaning his trousers from earth and grass. “See you at dinner, Seiryuu!”

“Good afternoon, Ouryuu,” the other boy said while he moved the wooden flute to his lips once more.

Zeno hadn’t given one step away yet when the familiar, joyful melody reached his ears. He giggled in delight at such farewell. As he walked, he sang loudly so Abi could hear him along his notes.

_Oh Lady Hummingbird_   
_My dear Hummingbird_   
_Where will your wings bring you today?_   
_Please come to the garden_   
_Bring joy to the flowers_   
_Your beauty makes me smile today_

What a lovely afternoon it had been. Zeno was glad he took that break. The sky above them seemed even bluer, and the sun shined more golden.


End file.
